Yet again, a Pink Ball Test has ended in two and a half days, with 16 wickets falling on the first day itself, raising questions whether these matches actually help to enhance spectator interest in Test Cricket, as they were originally meant to do. In fact, both Test Matches between India and Sri Lanka in this series ended in less than three days and generally proved to be very disappointing as contests. India won by a massive innings and 222 runs in the first Test at Mohali. And by 221 runs at the Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bangalore, in the Day-Nighter. In a sad commentary on their batting performance, Sri Lanka passed 200 only once in the four innings that they played.

In the First Test, following on from their first innings total of 174 which was surpassed by Ravindra Jadeja alone, by an unbeaten 175 in an Indian first innings total of 574 for 8 declared, they managed only 178 in the second innings. Things got even worse in the first innings at Bangalore where they collapsed to 109 all out against the Indian seamers who took 7 wickets between them, with Bumrah picking up his first 5-wicket haul in India. They then went on to lose 7 wickets to the spinners in the second innings. Apart from Angelo Matthews and Niroshan Dickwella, the other nine batsmen managed to put together a dismal 45 runs amongst them in the first innings.  In the second innings, a marvellous century by skipper Dimuth Karunaratne and an aggressive fifty by Kusal Mendis notwithstanding, the remaining nine batsmen again managed a marginally better 47 runs amongst them.

Sadly, that batting ineptitude has been the story of this disappointing series for Sri Lanka, which saw records galore, created by the Indians.

Achieving a huge personal milestone, Ravichandran Ashwin surpassed Kapil Dev’s 434 Test wickets to become India’s second-highest wicket-taker in Tests, after Anil Kumble who sits at the top of the heap with a monumental 619 Test wickets. His spin twin, Ravindra Jadeja became the first Indian cricketer in 69 years to score 175 runs or more in an innings and take a five-wicket innings haul in the same Test Match, after the great Vinoo Mankad last did it in 1952. Jadeja finished with 9 wickets in the match in an outstanding performance.

Rishabh Pant who has fallen in the 90s at the doorstep of well-deserved hundreds, five times already in his short Test career which otherwise has four Test Centuries, chipped in with a typically breezy 96. And Virat Kohli playing in his 100^th Test fell for 45, unbelievably, exactly in the manner and score predicted by a fan. Kohli’s disappointing run of scores continued in the second test as well and it’s now been two years since he got a Test hundred.

For Sri Lanka, Pathum Nissanka had compiled a well-deserved unbeaten 61 in the first Test which added to his growing stature as a quality Test Batsman, but the other young batting hope, Charith Asalanka disappointed in this series and needs to get back to the drawing board. He got off the mark in spectacular fashion with a six in the second innings and followed it up with another maximum in the same over. For good measure, he hit two more boundaries in that over, making it 20 runs in the final over before tea, in what was to be his only hurrah in this series. It was too good to last and he perished soon after.

Niroshan Dickwella crafted a well-fought half-century in the same innings, but once again, failed to make it count with a hundred. For someone who has 19 Test Match fifties, surely that is a disturbing statistic. At the end of the match, the Sri Lankan skipper Dimuth Karunaratne was to say that his batsmen needed to bat longer and capitalize on the starts that they got.

Moving on to the pink ball Day-Night Test Match at the Chinnaswamy Stadium, Bangalore, things didn’t get any better as a total of 16 wickets fell on the first day, the highest ever in a Day-night Test match thus far. The spinners did well for Sri Lanka, but conceded too many runs in the end as Shreyas Iyer once again played a superlative knock of 92 that took the match away from the opposition, after India were on the ropes at 148 for 6 at one stage. The Indian pacers Bumrah and Shami, breathed fire early on with the Pink Ball, as Sri Lanka crashed to 28 for 4, a position they never recovered from, folding up for a paltry 109. Angelo Mathews looked good but fell soon after a well-deserved fifty. As it turned out, that was to be the only substantial contribution in the Sri Lankan first innings.

For India, records continued to tumble in the second innings, as Rishabh Pant hit the fastest fifty in Test cricket by an Indian, reaching his half-century in 28 balls, two less than Kapil Dev against Pakistan, 40 years ago in 1982. Left Arm Spinners Embuldeniya and Praveen Jayawickrama picked up seven wickets between the two of them for the visitors in the second innings, to add to their 3 wickets each in the first innings. But they proved to be too expensive to really make a difference.  35- year old Suranga Lakmal playing his last Test match, bowled well and picked up a farewell wicket.

Skipper Dimuth Karunaratne compiled a brilliant Century in the Sri Lankan second innings and gave glimpses of what could have been for the visitors, if only they had applied themselves properly. But that was not to be and once his second-wicket stand of 97 with Kusal Mendis was broken, it was only a matter of time, as wickets tumbled in a heap. Karunaratne has carried forward his good form of last year when he scored a total of 902 Test runs at an average of 69.38, into 2022, but it was not enough for his side. Admittedly the pink ball moves and skids through under lights making batting difficult, but it was a very disappointing show from an international side, that has done well in white-ball contests of late.

A side that has a core of some very talented young players, but they just could not perform as a team in this series. There were injuries that put a number of key players out of action. There was no Wanindu Hasaranga, no Lahiru Kumara, Dushmantha Chameera or Pathum Nissanka (in the second test). But even then, it was disappointing to see the side caving in without a fight.  The team is obviously in a state of transition and once some of the more promising young players learn to be more consistent, Sri Lanka can surely look forward to many years of good cricket from them in International Cricket. 

But this time around, they really could have made better use of the Indian conditions, which are almost similar to the ones back home. Some of them did, but it was far too sporadic and far too little to make a difference.

A familiar scenario that struck terror in the hearts of many a top-class batsman as a much-loved Aussie maestro waltzed his way to 708 Test Match wickets in a glittering career that looks unlikely to be bettered – ever. 

And to paraphrase Shakespeare’s ‘To Be or Not To Be’ – the question that remained uppermost in the minds of a whole generation of bamboozled batsmen was ‘Will it spin away or in?’ Would it turn out be a legspinner or a googly, or perhaps a skidding topspinner that went straight on – as they gazed mesmerized at the oncoming delivery as it spun and stung like a striking cobra, leaving them helplessly rooted and transfixed to the crease, no matter how well settled they were. 

Shane Warne personified the quintessential larger than life, brash, aggressive, fun- loving ‘fair dinkum’ Aussie down to the very last detail and pommie bashing, specially in Ashes contests where he once picked up a Hat-Trick at the MCG to go with his other exploits, remained one of his favourite pastimes, right till the shocking, untimely end. 

His happy- go- lucky exuberance often got the better of him and earned him a certain notoriety that was perhaps not always fair to him, but nevertheless served to add to his charisma of a modern day genius.  And to his aura of one of the true all-time greats of the game. 

Sadly, like many of his victims bamboozled by the extravagant turn that he produced seemingly out of nowhere on fast, bouncy, wickets, as they left shaking their heads in disbelief at the ruins of their shattered stumps, the magician has left the stage abruptly too.

And like the legion of his illustrious victims done in by the “ball of the Century” that sent a bewildered Mike Gatting on his way, or by the one that ‘turned in a mile’ for left-handed Andrew Strauss as he tried to pad it away in vain, beaten by the prodigious turn, he is gone way too soon. 

Indeed, upon hearing the shocking news the “Ball of the Century“ was what countless fans would have turned to, to marvel and wonder at the sheer wizardry of this smiling assassin. And to many other equally well-documented deliveries in the same category which are no less unbelievable in terms of the turn and zip that he generated from otherwise unresponsive wickets tailor-made for the quicks. That is what set him apart as an absolute master of his craft who could ply his trade and work his magic on unsuspecting batsmen, on just about any surface. 

In a glittering international career spanning across 15 years that saw him take 708 Test wickets — the most ever by an Australian, and second only to his equally legendary contemporary, Muttiah Muralitharan, he carved out a niche for himself in the History of the sport, as an All-time Great who would be remembered forever. 

On a crazy day when the Angels XI Up Above acquired a top-class wicket-keeper batsman and a master right arm orthodox leg-spin googly bowler from Australia, both modern-day legends of the sport in their own right, Shane Warne had actually tweeted to express his grief at Rodney Marsh’s passing – he of the “ct Marsh bowled Lillee” fame from half a century ago. That was probably his last communication to the world as the charismatic leg spinner himself hastened away in a shocking twist of fate, to join his childhood hero in the celestial All-Stars side. 

Like Warnie as he was fondly called,  Rod Marsh, the man the media had nicknamed “iron gloves” because of a few balls that bounced out of his gloves on his maiden tour of England back in the 1972 Ashes Series 50 years ago, was a larger- than- life character who always seemed to be having fun in the company of his  iconic ‘best mates,’  Dennis Lillee and Greg Chappell. He is forever immortalised in one of the best remembered cricket photographs of all time, in which he flies fully airborne, parallel to the ground, to pouch Tony Greig one-handed in front Ian Chappell at first slip, off a marauding Gary Gilmour who picked up 6 for 14 in that memorable England Australia 1975 World Cup Semi – Final at Headingley. 

Memories that will remain forever etched in the annals of cricket history, even after the protagonists are long gone. 

And now in a sickening sense of deja vu,  Shane Warne becomes the second Australian TV Commentator in two years, after former teammate Dean Jones, to have fallen victim to a sudden and fatal heart-attack, alone in a foreign land, halfway across the world from home, in a shocking, untimely end that highlights yet again, the fragility and uncertainty of Human Life! 

Rest In Peace Legend, you will be missed!

So meteoric has been his rise through the ranks that after just over six months in International Cricket, with a combined experience of 1 Test Match, 11 ODIs and 9 T20Is, he has been elevated to the Vice Captaincy of the Sri Lankan T20 team and seems to have made the coveted No.3 spot his very own . He was Sri Lanka’s Player of the series against South Africa last September, amassing 196 runs from 3 games and followed that up with a stunning performance in the T20 World cup, where he batted fearlessly to become the highest run- getter for Sri Lanka and fifth overall, in the Tournament. ESPN put him on the shortlist for the ‘Debutant of the Year’ award alongwith four of his teammates in the national side, who could together, easily go on to make up the nucleus of one of the most exciting Sri Lankan sides to have emerged from the island- nation in recent years. 

Former National Coach Micky Arthur could barely control his excitement as he described the two young players whom he feels could be the key to Sri Lanka’s batting success over the next decade, Pathum Nissanka and Charith Asalanka. To him, the duo look set to herald another exciting new era of Sri Lankan sides punching above their weight, like the great teams of the past and could easily represent generation next for Sri Lanka in batting terms. 

With these two at the top of the order combining with Wanindu Hasaranga, who looks to be a match winner on his day and Praveen Jaywickrama and Ramesh Mendis, the future is indeed bright for Sri Lankan cricket

“To see Charith’s development has been incredible,” Arthur said. The way he’s gone about his work, the professionalism that he’s shown, and his preparation for every game has been fantastic and is a credit to himself.” It has been a dream start to his career in both ODIs and T20Is and the way he has adjusted across formats in a short international career till date, has been a treat to watch. The 24-year old batting all-rounder, who bowls right-arm off breaks, has been one of the most promising young entrants on the International scene in a long time and looks to be a very exciting prospect for Sri Lanka over the coming years. He first announced his arrival on the big stage, acquitting himself admirably as captain of the Sri Lanka Emerging Team and has since then, sealed a place for himself in the national team in every format.

Growing up in Elipitya where his openings were necessarily limited, he had the opportunity of coming to Richmond College, Galle on a scholarship, something that changed his life and career prospects forever, as he took to elite level Cricket seriously and started to make a name for himself. 

Galle and neighbouring areas had suffered extensive devastation in the Boxing Day Tsunami of 2004 when hundreds of households and coaches of an entire railway train were washed away. In a wonderful initiative, Middlesex and Surrey County Cricket Clubs in conjunction with the Sri Lankan Cricket Board, built two picturesque grounds in the wilderness, near Maggona and set up coaching facilities in the area to help young kids who had lost everything, to rebuild their lives through cricket. A lot of Sri Lanka’s future cricketing talent emerged through those programmes and some even made it to the National Team, changing their lives forever. A heart-warming Cricketing tale that bears retelling over and over again.. 

Asalanka had already been Sri Lanka’s Schoolboy Cricketer of the Year for two consecutive years and looked set for greater things. However, the quietly unassuming cricketer waited patiently till he finally got a call-up to the senior national squad.  His Richmond College teammates Wanindu Hasaranga, Kamindu Mendis, Dananjaya De Silva had all by then, represented the country before him. But once he broke into the National side, he wasted no time in showcasing his undeniable talent and established himself as an elegant and flamboyant stroke maker. Today he is the Vice Captain of Sri Lankan T-20 Team as a result of his consistently outstanding performances since then.

From the depths of a duck in his debut match against England, he came good in the second ODI against India last year, scoring 65 off 68 balls as he held the Sri Lankan innings together. When Sri Lanka won the third ODI in a high scoring game, he again chipped in with an important contribution. He then came into his own in the opening T20I, smashing a 26-ball 44 in a lost cause. But he had made his mark and signalled his arrival on the International stage. 

He continued in the same vein in the recent T20 World Cup in the UAE and was the hero of Sri Lanka’s incredible run chase in the match against Bangladesh, where he played his natural, attacking game on a true pitch. He blasted an unbeaten 80 off just 49 balls to power Sri Lanka past a stiff target of 172 at and then went on to play another superb knock against the West Indies to become one of the breakout stars of the  T20 World Cup. In an innings that lasted 41 balls, Asalanka helped himself to a gorgeous 68, his innings studded with 8 fours and a six.

The stylish, 24-year- old left-hander, the highest Sri Lankan run-scorer in the T20 World Cup, played 6 innings in the tournament and plundered 231 runs at a superb average of 46.20 and an excellent strike rate of 147.13, inclusive of two brilliant fifties.  Sri Lanka may not have made the knockouts, but Charith Asalanka had impressed everyone.  Former Indian opening batsman Akash Chopra referred to him as the ‘real deal’, and added that he would expect quite a few Indian Premier League teams to queue up to acquire his services at the upcoming IPL auctions, opening up new vistas for the youngster.    

At a juncture when Sri Lanka is on a rebuilding curve with emphasis on the 2023 World Cup in India and the next T20 World Cup in Australia later this year, the former Sri Lanka youth captain has definitively put his hand up as one of their biggest and brightest hopes, around whom future Sri Lankan teams would revolve. 

A future that will carry the hopes of the island nation with it, as it seeks to regain its past glory as one of top cricketing sides of the world, boasting of a mix of hard-hitting batsmen and feared, match-winning bowlers. 

January, my favourite month of the year, has just passed. Those crisp, cold, misty winter mornings that bring with them a feeling of holidays and nostalgia.  A time to look back, but also to look ahead. 

And although it’s been 36 years now, it seems only yesterday that we fetched up at the Air Force Academy (AFA) in early January 1986, a bunch of bright-eyed youngsters with long hair, straight out of college and the blue- and- white AFA bus picked us up from outside Secunderabad Railway Station. 

At the Academy, our ‘senior course’ was waiting- and the long hair was soon gone, as the ‘Academy Barber’ set upon us with relish. Another whole new course of Flight Cadets straight off ‘civvy’ street- the 79 GDOC as we were called. And in no time all of us looked the same- a set of dazed, crew- cut Zombies who didn’t know what had hit them! 

One of my coursemates, now an Air Commodore, had gone back to the Air Force Academy for his son’s passing out parade, recently. Incredibly, he found Satya, our Barber from long ago, still ruling over the Cadets Mess Barber Shop and sent us photographs of the register recording our haircuts from a lifetime ago.  Three regulation haircuts for the month of Jan ’86, one every ten days, duly signed for and neatly recorded against my name in the register. 

 One in 45-50 days is good enough for me now…and I guess I am a lot luckier than some! 

We blustered and threatened him with dire consequences once we became “Officers,” but Satya just laughed and snipped away… 

He was a very young man then, probably in his first year of employment like us, which is why he has lovingly preserved those registers for so long. The records for 78 and 79 GDOC are the only ones that he still has.

 I doubt Air HQs would have records that old now. 

Back in the Cadet’s Mess blocks, our immediate senior course fell on us with similar relish and cries of “79 GDOC Fall Out” rang out with alarming frequency, by day and night, as we assembled at all hours. Sometimes in drill boots, sometimes in dressing gowns and sometimes in our ‘whites and tie’-  and did front rolls and push ups and star jumps – while our six-month old ‘seniors’ standing watchfully by, told us in all solemnity that they were trying to make “soldiers out of us, from the pathetic little ‘cissies’ that we were…”

By the end of the first month of training, we had passed our Saluting Test and earned the luxury of our first ‘Book Out’ to town on a holiday. A whole day to ourselves, to eat out, watch movies and roam around, even if only in our regulation Academy Whites and Tie and crewcuts! How we had prayed that our Drill Sergeant, Sgt Andrews would ‘clear’ us in the first go and liberate us from the confines of the Academy. 

We also got to wear our first Air Force uniforms around this time and felt that we finally belonged…

A month later I was playing in my first Air Force Cricket Championship at Delhi, ‘living out’ with my elder brother who was a Flight Lieutenant then and sister- in- law, at 57-C Rock View, Air Force Station Palam -an unheard-of luxury for a Junior Term Cadet. Ma-Baba and Didi (sister) had come visiting and it was a much –remembered, much-cherished reunion.

Training Command emerged joint winners that year and I got a good Fifty in the final against star-studded Western Air Command (my elder brother was playing for them and predictably, got a hundred), to get selected in the Air Force Team. 

By the time I got back to AFA, my seniors eyed me with new found Respect…

Soon, it was on to the rigours of the FCTC camp (Field Craft Training Camp), as we set up Residence near the Narsapur Forest, some distance away from the Academy. Living in tents, wearing overalls and World War ‘Tommy’ style helmets, we went on long marches at night, carrying dummy rifles, maps and compasses. We played soldiers in earnest, monkeys crawling our way across ropes strung up between trees and crossing imaginary rivers on crazily swaying  ‘Burma Bridges’ made of sets of parallel ropes.

And then came the Big Day… 06 Dec 1986… the unforgettable day when we were commissioned as young Pilot Officers into the Indian Air Force, proudly wearing the near-invisible, single stripe on our shoulders. And in one, much- rehearsed handshake with the Chief of Air Staff on the Academy Drill Square, we transformed from boys to men! As we glided out in threes in Slow March, with the Band playing Auld Lang Syne, a flight of Polish Iskra fighter jets swung low over our heads, dipping their Wings in Salute to the newly commissioned Officers. And our Drill Sergeants who had been so tough with us during our one year of training, stood at attention and gave us our first salutes as we went by. What a moment that was!

Life waited. And the world was at our feet, so to say…

Back at the Cadets Mess after the Passing Out Parade, the CTA, Chief Trainee Administrator, gave us our first pay packets – 2100 princely rupees.  Few of us had ever had that kind of money in our Pockets before – money that we‘d earned ourselves! Our monthly allowance as Cadets, had been a miserly Ninety Rupees till then and this suddenly felt huge… whatever would we do with it?

We’d all got our Posting Orders and would soon be moving out to different Air Force Stations.  Some of us would not meet again, ever, over the course of our entire service careers. As for me, I was to stay on for another six months at AFA and train to be an Air Traffic Controller.

But we had a months’ leave first and I was going home to my parents and my friends! 

Back then we used to have the letters DLTGH written at the top right hand corner of the chalk-and-duster Board in our classrooms. With a number in front that would grow one less, each passing day.  The number of Days Left To Go Home, after the Course.

At the time, we were still naive enough to believe that at the end of the course, we’d be done with it all. That we would go back home again after the Passing Out Parade.

But we never really ‘went home’ after that, ever again… not in any real sense. We just moved on – to our new lives, as our parents watched proudly – going home to them only now and then, on leave. 

Life happened to each one of us in different ways as we picked up service experience and qualifications over the years. Picked up new ranks, new appointments, got married, had families… moved into ‘Status Houses’ with gardens, got posted to different Air Force stations, near and far, from one corner of the country to another every two and half to three years, accumulating boxes, both wooden and steel. And on each new posting, there would be a couple of them that remained unopened in our garages, as we acquired new stuff. 

Comfortably ensconced in our own little worlds, secure behind Guard Rooms, watch towers and perimeter walls, the Blue Uniform was what defined us, shaped our personalities, made us who we are.

And the years passed quickly… till one day it was time for the Big Decision to leave and move on to other things. 

Big Moment again, as I left my Office at Air Force Station Race Course in the heart of New Delhi and headed home to Dhaula Kuan Officers’ Enclave, where I took off my uniform a final time -25 years after I’d first worn it at the Air Force Academy.  I put it on a Hanger as always- Rank Braids, Name Tab, Ribbons, Commendation Badge, Belt, all neatly in place.

Only, I wouldn’t be needing it again….I’d lived my Air Force Dream. 

And now, in the flash of an eyelid, it’s been 36 years since that day at Secunderabad Railway Station. Most of us have taken Premature Retirement from the IAF, or superannuated, our Journey done. Our Parents have passed on and we all have our own families now and even our children are mostly settled in their lives. 

And it’s time to hand over the Baton… to another generation of long-haired, bright-eyed youngsters.

As life turns the page.

Former greats Steve Waugh and Dilip Vengaskar have compared it with Lords. A visiting New Zealand journalist simply described it as ‘a place that just feels like cricket. To call it a stadium does not do it justice.’ 

The Test Match at Eden Gardens was traditionally scheduled across the New Year, usually starting on the last day of the outgoing year and was like a carnival or extended picnic for the cricket fanatics of the city, spread over five days of excitement in mellow winter sunshine.

Much looked forward to and passionately analysed over endless cups of tea at innumerable Calcutta street-corner gatherings, these were games that almost the entire able- bodied population of the cricket-crazy city turned up at. Most die-hard fans of that generation made it a point to be at the ground for almost every single Test Match played at Eden Gardens over the years and wore that statistic like a Badge of Honour. 

Those matches were like signposts on their life’s journey and their conversation flowed effortlessly from the greats of the modern era, to the Bill Lawrys and Graham Mackenzies, the Wes Halls and Gary Sobers, the Colin Cowdreys and Ken Barringtons that they had watched there, over the years.

A ticket to the Test Match was a coveted thing and the ground was always packed to capacity. People stood in long, serpentine queues outside the stadium, in rope-and-wooden stake corridors that led to the stadium gates. They carried newspapers and water bottles and lunch boxes and winter oranges, waiting patiently from the crack of dawn, to be able to get inside in time for the Toss on the first day, which no one wanted to miss. 

Such was the romance of Test Cricket on those hazy, misty winter mornings at Eden Gardens, long ago.

The Crowds at Calcutta, known to be amongst the most vociferous and knowledgeable in the world, understood and appreciated every subtle nuance of the game. Over the years they’d come to be known as one of the most fanatically devoted cricket congregations of the world, capable of emphatically expressing their opinions in no uncertain terms.

The home team traditionally enjoyed the full-throated backing of the capacity crowd here, as their trademark roar, accompanied by the clanging of ‘Kasor -ghonta’ or cymbals, resonated around the ground, long before Mexican Waves undulated at stadiums across the world. They had once famously ‘shouted out’ Ian Chappell on 99 in the late ’60s and in 1972, brought a 6 ft 7 in tall Tony Greig down to his knees with folded hands, as he begged to be allowed to concentrate through the nervous 90s, to a coveted Test hundred. Needless to say, post that unexpected appeal from the charismatic Greig, the crowd adopted him as one of their own and literally cheered him to his hundred.

No wonder it is said that a player’s cricketing education is incomplete till he has played at Eden Gardens. 

This was the background to the New Year’s Test Match that commenced on the last day of 1966. Eden Gardens, in those days, had an official capacity of 40,000 people, but the number of spectators at the ground on the opening day, was much greater. Eager to watch stars like Sobers, Kanhai, Hall and Pataudi, more people had come in than could be accommodated and at least 20,000 extra tickets had been sold, thanks to the callousness of the officials at the Cricket Association of Bengal. 

Back then, the stadium still had wooden stands that were easily inflammable and although there was a half-hearted attempt to allot seat numbers, no one really bothered about such things. Policemen were everywhere, be it constables inside the ground or mounted police on horseback outside the stadium, guarding the entrances, ensuring that nothing untoward took place. And yet, on that long ago New Year’s Day, that is exactly what happened. 

After a tense first day of uneasy calm, the stadium erupted on the second day of the contest. There was not an inch of vacant space inside. Play had not even started when spectators started spilling over the boundary ropes, onto the ground. 

The police reacted in the only manner that they knew, resorting to a lathi-charge that left a number of spectators injured. An elderly gentleman who had been trying to reason with the cops was mercilessly beaten up and fell to the ground. That was the spark that lit the fire. The spectators, who vastly outnumbered the police, set fire to the wooden galleries at the Pavillion End, which quickly spread to the canvas roof. The police fired tear-gas shells, leading to a full-scale riot. Pandemonium reigned and players and officials took refuge in the dressing rooms. A police jeep was set on fire, as were some public buses, leading to the Second Day’s play being abandoned without a single ball being bowled. Meanwhile, some West Indian players had run outside the stadium in panic, along the Red Road, in a bid to get away. They were guided back to the stadium and later escorted to the Great Eastern Hotel in heavily guarded team buses.

One of the most abiding memories of that fateful day, was a heart-warming show of patriotism and bravery by a West Indian player. The flags of the two countries were fluttering above the pavilion, with the roof on fire. As the oft- repeated story goes, Conrad Hunte who had earlier been run out for 43 on the first day, climbed the flagpole and brought down the West Indian flag. 

However, Hunte later clarified in his autobiography that when he saw the National Flags threatened by the fire and attempted to rescue them, a plain-clothes policeman asked him to desist and it was that unknown hero who scaled the flagpole that day, to bring the flags down.

Play ultimately resumed after the rest day, rescheduled to Jan 2. The West Indies Captain Gary Sobers, initially reluctant to play, was persuaded by his former skipper, the much-respected Frank Worrell, then on a private visit to Calcutta. Hunte chipped in too, as did the Indian captain Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi. Keeping in view the Spirit of Cricket and the interests of the legion of paying spectators who had so eagerly waited for the game, the West Indies agreed to continue. 

After a typically brisk Sobers innings of 70 and an uncharacteristically sedate 90 from Kanhai, Sobers and Gibbs picked up 7 wickets each in the match, as they wrapped up a win by an innings and 45 runs inside four days, despite India being 89 for 1 at one stage.

This was the first instance of crowd trouble at the Eden. Unfortunately, it was not to be the last, the abandoned semi -final between India and Sri Lanka in the 1996 World Cup being another such disgraceful instance, which temporarily led to the suspension of International cricket from Eden Gardens.  

But it did lead to infinitely better managed crowd facilities in the years to follow – a silver lining from one of the darkest and most controversial days in Indian cricket. 

When the sound of gunfire and exploding shells suddenly died away at midnight, the peaceful strains of Silent Night in German wafted across to the Allies in their trenches. Sung in an unfamiliar language, the much-loved notes came floating across the harsh, unforgiving landscape of no-man’s land. Soon the British joined in too, singing in their own language and the strange duet hung suspended over the battle-scarred trenches where lay the “living, dead and the damned,” in the words of a popular song by the Irish group Celtic Thunder. 

And for a while the stench of fear and death faded, to be replaced by a spirit of camaraderie and good cheer. 

At dawn, the first German soldiers bravely climbed out of their trenches, and approached the British lines, wary of being fired upon. Each side thought it to be a trick of some kind, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. Till they realised that the soldiers were unarmed and came in peace. 

Soon a swarm of officers and soldiers from both sides surged across battle scarred no-man’s land and greeted each other, shaking hands warmly and wishing each other Merry Christmas in their own native tongue. They buried their dead and shared cigarettes, chocolates, bottles of wine and food. 

In the spirit of Christmas Good Cheer, they posed for photographs together and looked at pictures of their loved ones at home. While they spoke different languages, the sentiments expressed were universal – of love, friendship and humanity- which are the same in all languages and need no words to understand. 

As they “Built a Soldier’s truce, along the front line”, in the words of the Celtic Thunder song.

Many of the soldiers were mere boys, less than twenty years old, fighting in an alien land for King and country, in a senseless war that they did not understand. In subhuman conditions of mud and slush and rotting bodies. The killing was on a scale never witnessed before in human history and an entire generation was lost in the trenches, on either side. Their memory is preserved only in the neat rows of thousands of white headstones adorned by red poppies, flowering in the war cemeteries of Flanders, Ypres, Verdun, Somme and other killing fields of the Western Front. 

As they lay in “some corner of a foreign field that would be forever England” as poet Rupert Brooke so poignantly said in his famous poem “Nineteen Fourteen: The Soldier.”

In 2014, a hundred years after that time, chocolate maker Sainsbury’s created an advertisement for their chocolates based on that incredible Christmas Truce and the true stories around it. Made with sensitivity and an eye for detail and authenticity, the advertisement shows the momentary surprise of British soldiers in their trenches as Christmas Carols come riding on the wind from the German side at night, as they willingly join in with the chorus in their own language.

This is followed by two soldiers, one British and one German, climbing out of their trenches disregarding the warnings of their mates, terror and tension writ large on their faces as they walk uncertainly across to the other side, their hands up in the air. The tension eases only when they are sure that the other side realises that they come in peace. 

They shake hands, introducing themselves to each other, simply as Jim and Otto. By then hundreds of soldiers from both sides have joined them and are mingling freely with each other. Some of them throw down their greatcoats on the ground in the time-honoured manner, to mark goalposts and engage in a game of light-hearted football, in war torn no -man’s land. 

When the call comes to return to battle, they wish each other well and reluctantly turn back towards their respective trenches as the fighting resumes. No one ever wants a war, but it has been thrust upon us, many times in the history of mankind.  Back in his trench, Otto realises that Jim has put a bar of Sainsbury’s chocolate given to him by a loved one, in his greatcoat pocket and the advert ends with a message celebrating the Christmas spirit of sharing. The unspoken feeling in his wistful smile is that if these two young men were to survive the War, they could easily become the best of friends. 

This moving story is a wonderful affirmation that even in the darkest of times, in the heat of war in the most dreadful of situations, there can be great humanity and grace shining through, in ordinary folk. And that is a message that the world needs today more than ever before, in these fractured, divisive times.

For it holds a great promise for mankind when two nations locked in deadly, mortal kombat, can on Christmas Day, lay aside their arms and share smokes, play a game and wish each other happiness.

More than a hundred years on, the incredible graciousness and magnanimity of that moving event, continues to tug at heartstrings and raise goose pimples. And although the advert was made to honour the amazing Christmas Truce and the people engaged in that War, it also honours and commemorates the sacrifices of anyone who has ever served their country and donned a uniform, anywhere in the world. 

While carrying at the same time, a wonderful message of the Christmas and New Year Spirit that is relevant and cherished, even today. 

It feels so good to pick up my first cup of tea from a passing vendor and sit quietly sipping it, staring out of the window. waking up slowly to a new day. I am traveling back to Guwahati In the North East of India on the Rajdhani Express from Delhi – a long, 2-night journey. I have a comfortable side lower berth which is totally private after the curtains are drawn and a large window, all to myself.

Outside, the scenic landscape of rural India flashes by. Green fields, occasionally yellow with mustard flowers, sometimes brown with a crop of maize. Endless farmlands stretching to a horizon that is blue in the distance.

Clumps of dark green trees here and there, dreaming in the winter sunshine. A lake suddenly – the blue waters dotted with a hundred specks that are migratory birds who spend the winter here in our warmer climes, flying thousands of miles from snowy Siberia before the cold sets in.

Small huts of mud and thatch dotting the landscape…

Simple village folk idly standing by, or going about their daily lives. A bright orange saree stands out against the beautiful soft green of the rice & paddy fields. 

A gnarled old tree, branching out in every conceivable direction, mounts a silent vigil in a vast treeless plain. A secluded temple, recently whitewashed, bright against the green and blue haze, a small red flag on top. And in the middle distance, half-lost in the haze, a flock of startled egrets takes to graceful flight in a celebration of white – whiter than the advertisements for our best detergents can ever dream of.

A solitary boatman silhouetted against the pearly waters of an unknown river as it flashes by, half submerged boats lying around near the bank, alongside the railway bridge. A dusty red farmtrack crossing the railway line – a rickety old bus and a farm cart drawn by an impatient bullock wait at a level crossing as the train rushes past. An early swallow and a kingfisher sit placidly on the telegraph wires. Summer is still a month away at least and the landscape is still a dreamy green and blue in the haze.

The most dominant impression here is a feeling of space… and the relaxed pace of life.This is rural India. Haven’t we all seen it from our carriage windows, whenever we’ve cared to look? 

The train is passing through North Bihar now. This is the fertile hinterland of the river Ganges, dotted with tiny railway stations, familiar from our childhood and days of early youth. Stations that have disappeared from my immediate consciousness, since life is now too far removed from these parts.

The tiny station of Khagaria – we’d come here to play an inter-college cricket tournament, a lifetime ago. I was in my first year of college and had got into the University team from here. And I still remember strolling down to the quiet railway station with my friends, on a cold, foggy winter evening. We sat down on a wooden bench on the deserted platform and bought piping hot pakoras from a lonely vendor. Outside, the local bazaar, bustling and crowded, dirty, like any other bazaar anywhere. And after a while, we’d taken a couple of cycle rickshaws and gone back to the college hostel where our team was put up. We’d flopped down on our makeshift beds on Holdalls spread on the floor and thumped our suitcases and sung songs, off key mostly, and laughed and chatted, late into the cold winter night..

Soon, the train is thundering past Thana Bihpur Railway Station. Just across the Ganges from here is the small district town of Bhagalpur, where we grew up. Before the Barrage came up at Farakka and the Broad Gauge trains started playing, our route to the hills of North-East India lay through here.

And I remember, when I got commissioned in the Indian Air Force, my friends were so happy for me that four of them came to meet me at Calcutta when I returned after completing my training at the Air Force Academy and escorted me home to Bhagalpur, an overnight journey away. They were so pleased to have me back…

That is what smalltown friendships were typically like, then- and perhaps still are today.

Thinking of friends reminds me of the ITC Cup matches that our club used to play every year at the nearby town, a short distance away from our hometown. We would initially travel by train to get there and then hire a large open Jeep, called a Trekker, to the picturesque Indian Tobacco Company campus, with about 20 of us packed into the vehicle, laughing, singing, and having fun.

And from my train window today, I can see a Trekker now in the distance, ploughing a lonely furrow in a trail of dust. Not much seems to have changed here since the Trekkers still look impossibly overcrowded.

On the outward journey to Delhi this time, I had actually passed through Bhagalpur railway station and it had brought on such a rush of nostalgia, seeing the familiar knot of people on the platform, milling around to board the train. And as it slowly pulled out of the station, I saw again the imposing buildings of our old college and the Tilla Kothi, the house on the hillock, in the distance. And a glimpse of the overgrown old English Graveyard, as the train picked up speed.

All so familiar, all so far removed from our lives now…

Today, nearly 20 years on, sitting alone by the window on this long train journey, watching familiar stations going by, those scenes flash in my minds’ eye again, the images still fresh.

And it seems as if it were Only Yesterday…

Dusk is beginning to fall. It’s been a long day on the train, but now the sky is flushed a delicate pink and mauve, with a dash of Orange to set it off against a flaming sunset, as the sun sinks below the horizon. Trees and bushes are now clumps of darkness silhouetted against the fiery western sky. Birds heading home; simple village folk preparing for the long, cold night ahead. In most homes, a lantern or a bonfire will be the only source of heat and light. The evening meal is being cooked on smoking, coal or cow dung-cake fired mud braziers, which the womenfolk are tending to, outside the houses.

A pall of smoke hangs low, trapped under the cold, heavy surface air. The day’s work is done, the animals are home and fed and it’s now time to rest.

And the train thunders on into the darkness with a shrill shriek of the whistle…its destination still far away.

In particular, the issue of discrimination and racism in cricket has dominated cricketing headlines as never before and is something that cannot and will not be wished away, or swept under the carpet, much though Yorkshire Cricket and the ECB- the England and Wales Cricket Board would have wished it so, having sat on Azeem Rafiq’s racial victimisation complaint for a disgusting 4 years. But more of that later. 

A disturbing incident with racial overtones rocked the recent T20 World Cup at Dubai right at the beginning of the Tournament. Cricket South Africa had directed its players to “take the knee” in the now familiar gesture in support of the ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement. A directive that led to wicketkeeper-batsman Quinton de Kock refusing to comply and withdrawing from the game against the West Indies, bringing the internal dissension on the matter within the team, out in the open.

In a shocking move, he made himself unavailable for selection in that match.

De Kock later issued a contrite apology saying that he belonged to a mixed-race family and had always passionately believed in the Black Lives Matter concept, but resented being told what to do by the South African Board. Following this apology, he was welcomed back into the fold and played the rest of their matches, but the bitter taste left by the incident lingers.

This pre- match symbolism first started last year in July when both the England and the West Indies teams ’Took the Knee’ prior to the start of their momentous first Test Match at the Ageas Bowl that marked the resumption of international cricket after the long coronavirus lay off. The gesture was seen as a show of support to the Black Lives Matter movement by the cricketing fraternity, in the wake of the unprecedented anger against racism that gripped the world after African-American George Floyd’s death in the United States. It was mooted as a powerful, combined statement against racial discrimination, by International cricket as a whole.

In a pre-match interview at the time, legendary West Indian fast bowler Michael Holding, a commentator with Sky Sports for the past 21 years and one of the most respected voices in world cricket, had made an impassioned and emotional plea along with fellow commentator, former England Women’s Captain Ebony Rainford- Brent, to ‘Educate the World’, both Black and White and correct historical biases that went back centuries and continued to this day.

Holding’s sentiments were echoed by another former England captain Nasser Hussain, himself of mixed Indo-British parentage, who felt the world had looked away from such things for far too long and that racial equality must be a ‘given’ and there should be no need in this day and age for anyone to say ‘Black Lives Matter.’

South Africa, the Nation most affected by racial discrimination in recent times, went through their own turmoil over the symbolism of this gesture. The Cricketing community of the Rainbow Nation underwent some emotional soul-searching when ‘coloured,’ South African Test Cricketer Lungi Ngidi first declared that he was in favour of his team-mates taking a similar stand like the other nations.

In a country deeply divided on racial lines, his statement expectedly evoked mixed reactions and Ngidi initially faced a backlash from four former players – Rudi Steyn, Pat Symcox, Boeta Dippenaar and Brian McMillan.

But he has since received plenty of support from various quarters within the South African cricketing community, both black and white. Going by the recent De Kock incident however, the voices of dissent are clearly a long way from being quietened. 

In a country where only around 6% of the population is white, generations of young black sportsmen have given up their dreams of representing their country and playing sport professionally, because the ‘Whites Only’ policy practised by the South African government for years, precluded this. 

The world never got to know these talented cricketers because they never had the opportunity to play!

Someone like Basil D’Oliveira, who could emigrate to England and successfully go on to play Test cricket for that country, was an exception. Most were not so lucky.

The resultant deep-seated angst, born of centuries of deprivation amongst the black community worldwide, was poignantly depicted recently in a photograph that went viral some months ago, of a group of young African- American Medical students standing in front of a ruined Louisiana Plantation in the US, where their forefathers had worked as slaves, saying “We are our ancestor’s wildest dreams.” 

In the cricketing context one needs to look no further than Makhaya Ntini the South African fast bowler who played more than 100 Test matches for his country, who sometimes felt so uncomfortable and isolated within the predominantly-white team environment, that he preferred to jog back to the hotel from the stadium after the match instead of getting onto the team bus! 

This from someone who ranks amongst the greatest South African pacers of all time! 

Which brings us back to Yorkshire’ s handling of the Azeem Rafiq case. It has now been proved and accepted, to the great discomfiture and hopefully, lasting shame of a lot of people at Yorkshire and the ECB, that he raised specific concerns of racism in 2018 and the club failed to take them seriously and investigate the allegations. 

The ECB now feigning ‘holy’ shock and dismay at Rafiq’s misery, have spent the last 15 months taking no notice of his complaints and instead, allowing Yorkshire to try and sweep it under the carpet with all the disdainful arrogance of a so- called powerful superior, when it comes to dealing with inconvenient truths. 

In the comfortable, ingrained belief that these could be suppressed and made to go away.

All the while asking England players to take the knee before each match and wear T-shirts with slogans proclaiming cricket to be an inclusive sport for all, in a clear show of double standards. 

An investigation was finally launched at the Yorkshire County Cricket Club, only in September 2020 after Rafiq gave a media interview in which he said that the club was institutionally racist and that he had been driven close to suicide by the humiliation and mental torture that he had endured over years. 

The chairman of the Club resigned after they were banned from staging England matches and sponsors withdrew in droves over their handling of the unprecedented crisis.

But even after all this, the Club came out with an incredibly insensitive and arrogant statement in which they admitted that although they had initially failed to investigate the allegations – and that Rafiq had indeed been subjected to racial harassment – “there is no conduct or action taken by any of its employees, players or executives that warrants disciplinary action.

The idea that this outrageous statement would be enough, and the world would just sit back and move on, expectedly and deservedly came to nought soon enough!

At an explosive Parliamentary Committee hearing recently, viewed on the Internet hundreds of times with shock and disgust, shaming English Cricket as a whole, Rafiq, a former England U-19 captain, repeatedly broke down in tears as he spoke about his “inhuman” treatment. He described sustained, institutionalised abuse, revealing how he and other players with Asian backgrounds were subjected to comments like “You lot sit over there near the toilets” and “there are too many of you now, we need to do something about it.”  And how they were collectively addressed as ‘Kevin’ or ‘Steve’ by arrogant, white-privilege perpetrators who could not be bothered to accord them the dignity of addressing them by their given names.

Over the years, dressing-room culture has been designed to enhance team-spirit, camaraderie and bonding through shared experiences and light-hearted banter amongst players. That this should take on such an abhorrent racist form, with players and management seemingly unable to distinguish between racist bullying and good-natured banter, is extremely disturbing to say the least. 

Rarely if ever, has it been challenged and called out like this before, although a number of players of colour have increasingly raised their voices against it in the recent past, only to be repeatedly brushed under the carpet. Rafiq’s allegations were probably the proverbial straw that finally broke the Camel’s back!

Through their reluctance to take action in this case, the Yorkshire County Cricket Club and the ECB have only held fort in the face of shocking allegations that are no less disturbing than the George Floyd death in the US that they so righteously sought to condemn by ‘taking the knee’. A fort of mythical white supremacy that has been repeatedly disproved over the years. A figment of imagination of a long-dead Empire with its history of shameful pillaging and subjugation. 

That Racism in sport is alive and well is adequately portrayed by the blame and castigation that invariably attaches to ‘players of colour’ when a predominantly ‘white’ team loses an important match. The all-round abuse of the three ‘coloured’ footballers who missed their penalties in the European Cup final and the castigation of Moeen Ali and Hasheeb Hameed for throwing away their wickets after playing important knocks in a Test Match that England lost to India recently, are just two recent examples of this. It did not make any difference that a number of other England players of the ‘right skin colour’ had barely lifted a finger to justify their places in these matches.

It appears therefore, that racism is a deep-rooted malaise that lies just below the surface and is not going to go away in a hurry but even so, it remains incumbent on the cricket fraternity and the society at large to take necessary steps that negate and mitigate this centuries-old evil in the hope that there will come a day when sport, if not society itself, will become truly multicultural and inclusive.

However, whether enforced rules and guidelines that promote 30% inclusion of ‘persons of colour’ and other genders in various capacities in cricket teams and sports bodies by March next year, as envisioned in the British Parliamentary Committee’s recommendations, will help quell these disparities remains a moot point, specially in the light of a similar South African experiment earlier. While it may be just one of the many steps needed in that direction, the malaise itself may not be cured by such quick fixes, simply because they would not alter the attitudes that are at the root of such issues. 

The permanent solution to the problem would instead lie in a broadening of basic human perspectives and in the generosity of the human spirit that believes and accepts all human beings as equal, worthy of the same courtesy, respect and equality of opportunities. 

That cannot come from imposed regulations and guidelines, although in the short term, it might help to facilitate such thinking. But to bring about any meaningful change and drive away these injustices, it would require the ‘Education of the World’ that Michael Holding had so passionately spoken about, last year!

And that long term inclusivity is what a more just world needs to seriously look at, instead of cosmetic knee-jerk reactions.

Only, this time, the courage and gallantry was with a cricket bat and ball in coloured clothing in a World Cup final, instead of with guns and uniforms in a World War.

And the Black Caps lost yet another World Cup white – ball final, the Aussies proving just too good on the day, too dominant in the run chase, after the Kiwis had put up the highest ever T-20 World Cup final total till date, having been put in to bat. 

Two comeback men who had been written off under different circumstances, spearheaded the Aussies rampaging run chase, as they made short work of a stiff target and romped home to a huge 8- wkt victory. David Warner, dropped from his franchise team in the IPL just a couple of months ago, played one of his typically robust, aggressive knocks to emerge as the Player of the Tournament and Player of the Match, Mitchell Marsh, a former U-19 Australian Captain whose international career never really took off due to injury, played an equally brutal, unbeaten knock as he took Australia home with 7 balls to spare.

For both players, the glory would have looked an unlikely, if not impossible dream at the start of this tournament, but on this day, both were simply unstoppable. And the outcome was never in any doubt, once they took charge. After Warner departed, Glenn Maxwell came in to join Marsh and the duo finished off things in style as the hapless Kiwis ran out of ideas in the field. 

They were exceptional in the run chase, preferring to take the fight to the opposition right from the word go, exerting pressure on the Kiwi bowlers with their aggressive intent and making them err repeatedly, in line and length. Their game plan was not just to preserve wickets in the initial overs, but to attack and dominate in a way that made the opposition look helpless and at a loss for answers. 

Having said that however, the Black Caps have consistently been wonderful ambassadors for the sport in recent times, playing top class cricket across formats and showcasing time and again, the gentlemanliness and Spirit of Cricket that remains the essence of all that is good about this sport, even in these unforgiving, commercial interest driven times. 

And for the way they play their cricket and the way they conduct themselves, they reign in the hearts of cricketing fans across the world. 

The difference in mindsets of these two teams and in their overall approach to cricket, was starkly brought out by two separate incidents that took place in their respective semi- final games in this tournament.

In the first one which took place during the match between Australia and Pakistan which the Aussies won by five wickets in a tight finish, Australian opener David Warner smashed a huge six against a ‘double bouncer’ from the 41-year- old Pakistan all-rounder Mohammad Hafeez.

In a throwback to the infamous ‘underarm ball’ of the 80s, bowled by Trevor Chappell on the instructions of his skipper, brother Greg, to prevent New Zealand from hitting a six off the last ball of an ODI to win the game, the ball slipped out of Hafeez’s hand and bounced for the first time near his foot and then bounced again a second time before Warner stepped out and hit it over deep mid-wicket for six. 

This action was in keeping with the tough, no-holds-barred, winner- takes- it -all Aussie Image. They had an important match to win that was going down to the wire and they didn’t particularly care how they did it so long as it was within the rules of the game. 

And they saw nothing wrong with it.

Just a day prior however, in the other semi-final against England, New Zealand opener Darryl Mitchell who anchored their successful run chase with some brilliant power hitting, upheld New Zealand’s image of being the ‘nice guys’ of Cricket. 

His partner Jimmy Neesham had hit the ball firmly, a little wide of England bowler Abdul Rashid’s reach, who collided with Mitchell as he tried to get to the ball. Neesham was halfway down the wicket to take the single when Mitchell turned down his call from the non-striker’s end because he felt he had obstructed Rasheed in his attempt to field the ball.  

 His gesture of turning down what could have been a crucial single in a tight situation, was widely lauded as a heartwarming exhibition of the sporting spirit that has so typified the Kiwis approach to what still essentially remains a gentleman’s game.

In the Final, there was the understated brilliance of a typical Kane Williamson innings to enjoy, with lovely cricketing shots all around the wicket, even in this compressed format of the game. The crucial loss of two set batsmen going great guns, both to Josh Hazelwood in the 17^th over, proved to be the turning point that saw a lot of good work undone, with two new batsmen coming to the crease at that point. 

It eventually meant that New Zealand finished a minimum of 15 runs short of what they looked capable of at the end of the 16^th over, at 144 for 2.

Runs that made a crucial difference in the end. 

In retrospect, the dew factor proved to be a big influence on outcomes in this World Cup, a significant disadvantage to the team bowling second. A wet, heavy Cricket ball does not spin or swing and is difficult to grip, which perhaps accounted for some of the strange lengths and lines bowled by the New Zealand bowlers, specially towards late evening in the final.

And from that perspective, there has rarely been a tournament so heavily dependent on the toss in recent memory. 

Which brings up questions about the timing and scheduling of these matches to ensure a more level playing field in future. These were obviously dictated by the broadcast companies with an eye to maximising viewership. And as former New Zealand cricketer- turned- commentator Simon Doull pointed out, who knows, if India had not played Pakistan and New Zealand back- to -back first up and instead had the opportunity to ease themselves into the tournament, with a few easier confidence- building games after their first game, would that have made a difference to the semi-final line up? 

These are points that need to be looked at, by the powers that be in International Cricket and perhaps it would be in the best interests of the game if such decisions were not dictated by purely commercial considerations in future.

Otherwise, it was a World Cup played in an excellent spirit of camaraderie amongst the teams and it was heartwarming to see players and teams paying friendly visits to each other’s dressing rooms at the end of matches in the true spirit of cricket. 

With more and more players from different countries playing as teammates in franchise cricket around the world, it may surely be hoped that this trend will continue in the future as well, bringing nations closer.

Which is what International Sport was originally meant to be all about. 

And that will surely hurt for a long time to come, even though it may be said that in this case it was Pakistan, defeated in every single one of their World Cup games against India till date, who initiated the turn of events that finally dashed of hopes of a billion people. An audience that fanatically believed, almost to the point of arrogance, that their superheroes were invincible against their arch rivals. And that this World Cup was theirs for the taking, a glorious swansong for Ravi Shastri and Virat Kohli. 

Unfortunately for them, that was not to be. 

What could have gone so horribly wrong this time, is a question that a dazed Nation is now asking itself. And the answer obviously lies in a highly unsustainable combination of the weight of a billion dreams fuelled by an aggressive media and a team that has played too much cricket, across different formats, in different climes and conditions. A team that has been on the road without a break, ever since Cricket in this part of the world resumed with the IPL at Dubai, in September 2020. 

The sheer mental strain of living in isolated Bubbles that offer little relaxation and scope of switching off from the pressures of the game, day after day for the last 14 months, finally proved to be too much for this Indian side, at a time when they needed to be at their best.

It showed, in the body language, in the lack of self-belief and in an overall lack of intent, of the team. The freedom and fearlessness with which they lit up the batting Powerplay and picked up wickets right through the innings against Scotland, came a little too late, only after the pressure had finally eased and they had nothing more to lose. Till then, they were tentative and unsure, burdened by a thousand cares and expectations and self- doubt.

Back home, the media deluge of statistics and tales of past glory, was lapped up by an adoring public expecting an encore, without realising that each match, especially in the shortest, most intense format of the game where there is so little time to recover, is a new day and has nothing to do with what has happened in the past. 

These games are not so much about individual brilliance, as a team effort where everyone contributes their bit, to finally create the big picture. The most successful teams of this tournament have all done that brilliantly, especially a young Pakistan side and the mature New Zealand, Australia and England sides, each at the high noon of their powers. The Indians meanwhile, have fallen short. As have the West Indies. 

Even a young Sri Lankan side has exemplified this team effort in the matches that they have done well in. And it surely augurs well for them for the future because this is a very exciting young side that could well turn out with great distinction for their country in times to come.

Moving onto the knockout stages of the tournament, a team tactically needs a couple of explosive batsmen in at the start capable of taking the game away from the opposition in the batting powerplay itself. A few who can then keep the scoreboard ticking over consistently in the middle overs. And another set of power hitters in at the death, who could set things alight in the last 5 overs, individuals capable of hitting a sudden 20 ball 50 to completely change a match. Looking at the four teams that have made the semi-finals, they all have such players coming in at the designated times, waiting to showcase their abilities in the final stages of this Tournament. 

As a bowling side, the necessity is of picking up wickets in the Powerplay. No team recovers from a horror start like the one India had against Pakistan with the match going out of their hands in the first 5 overs of the game itself. Facing a swinging ball at pace at the beginning of an innings is every batsman’s nightmare and a bowler who can consistently do that will always be difficult to score off, regardless of format. No wonder all four semi-finalists have their best Test match fast bowlers playing for them. And their best spinners as well. This was one more area where India took some strange decisions, leaving some of their most successful bowlers of recent times, out of the side. 

There is a pressing need to keep the runs down in the last 5 overs as well, when anything below 8 an over is very good. Surprisingly, this World Cup has seen a lot of these 140- 150 run totals alongwith some sub- 125 totals that are so easily chaseable. Unless bowlers get wickets at the start it’s impossible to keep the score down to a reasonable target. And that is what these four teams will be focussing on, in the games ahead.

The heat and turning tracks of UAE have encouraged spinners in this World Cup like never before and it could turn out to be a fascinating battle in the Semis between Spin and some of the hardest-hitting batsmen of the world. Variations are one of the key weapons in a T-20 spinner’s armoury and a lot of bowlers can bowl upto six different deliveries in an over. Ideally, anything that turns away from the batsman’s natural hitting arc towards the onside is an asset to the bowling side. The ability to stick to a consistent attacking line and length, however, could still be the key to success for a spinner, even in T20s. If the ‘Pehla’ fulfills its purpose of tying down batsmen and getting wickets, then the ‘doosra’ and ‘Teesra’, may not prove to be so much of a necessity after all.

So it’s all set to be a very exciting knockout stage of the T-20 World Cup and fittingly, the best four teams have made the grade. The drama as it unfolds over the next few days, will undoubtedly keep us all riveted to our TV screens, the disappointment of our own teams not being there notwithstanding. Which one of these four evenly matched sides will eventually lift the trophy, only time will tell. 

For India and Sri Lanka however, this will have to be a time for rebuilding and consolidation, with an eye to the future, to the next T20 World Cup in Australia, at this time next year.